


WILD

by bisexuallaurel



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Clizzy on the side, Fluff, High School, M/M, Romance, jimon, mundane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexuallaurel/pseuds/bisexuallaurel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon wasn’t thinking about football, though. He couldn’t care less about football. He was, however, thinking of the football quarterback, Jace Lightwood.</p><p>or, the high school au where Jace is a very popular quarterback and Simon is a nobody with a band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	WILD

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to all the people on tumblr who encouraged me to write this! You're all the Jace to my Simon and I love you all a whole bunch!!!
> 
> But not as much as I love archeryalec @ tumblr who beta'd this fic and also happens to be my best friend in the whole world. Love u bud. Hope this is gay enough for you.
> 
> I'm bi-magnus at tumblr, and you can find the fic posted there too, as well as an aesthetic edit:  
> http://bi-magnus.tumblr.com/post/149524318914/w-i-l-d-a-jimon-high-school-au-summary-simon

Simon was walking down the familiar hallway, trailing his fingers along the lockers as he went. His feet were carrying him to his locker on autopilot. His thoughts were miles away.

Okay, maybe not miles. Maybe just outside the school, on the football pitch, where the school football team had practice.

Simon wasn’t thinking about football, though. He couldn’t care less about _football_. He was, however, thinking of the football quarterback, Jace Lightwood.

Jace was a classically gorgeous boy, with golden hair and the most captivating eyes the world had ever seen. One eye was a stunning blue, and the other was split between the same blue and a rich brown.

Simon.... Well. He might have a tiny crush on Jace. Micro, really; barely existent.

He usually watched the football team practice — every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon — but today he had promised his best friend, Clary, that he’d help her study for an exam. They had the exam tomorrow, so there was no rescheduling it. No matter how infatuated Simon was, he’d always put Clary first. They’d been best friends since, well, forever, and Jace didn’t even know he existed, anyway. It was an easy choice.

But still, he couldn’t help but longingly glance out the window towards the pitch, as he stood leaned against his locker, waiting for Clary. He couldn’t make out any of the players, but in his mind, he saw Jace in his gear, running with his eyes fixed on the ball. He could see his muscles flexing as he threw his arms up to catch the ball that was being thrown at him by a teammate; he could see the grin stretching across his face as he scored.

Jace didn’t smile that often. Most of the time, he was wearing a scowl, accompanied by his signature leather jacket, or possibly his red letterman jacket. The guy was clearly into his jackets, because he was never seen anywhere without one of the two.

He was one of the most popular kids at school, but he didn’t seem to have a lot of close friends. He was very close with his siblings, Izzy and Alec, and he had a few good friends on the team too, but other than that, he mostly had fans. He rarely smiled in public, other than on the football field or with his siblings.

But whenever he _did_ smile... oh boy, was it beautiful. Simon was pretty sure his smile could light up an entire room, maybe even an entire building.

“Daydreaming, are we?”

Clary’s voice brought him back to reality.

He pushed his glasses further up his nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fray.”

She grinned at him. “Sure, Lewis. You ready to go?”

________________________________

It was a few weeks later, and band practice was running late. Simon couldn’t help but keep glancing at his phone increasingly often, to the annoyance of his band mates.

There was a very important football game at 7:30 pm, and he _had_ to go. He’d missed two practices in a row now, due to impromptu cramming sessions for pop quizzes and exams. Outside of the football field, he rarely got to see Jace, and it was quite frankly embarrassing how much he missed having a socially sanctioned excuse to just stare at Jace’s body and face for hours on end.

He glanced at his phone again. Almost 7 pm, and his friends were still arguing about the set list. They were playing a local café in a few weeks and they’d been trying to settle on a set list for days now.

“Look, we need to switch 2 and 4,” said Maureen, who played keyboard. Her hair was put up in a messy bun on her head, but a few curly strands had escaped the purple hair band.

“We can’t! It’ll just ruin the flow,” said Eric, who played drums.

Simon got up from his chair. “Guys, I’m sorry, I really gotta go.”

They both looked up from their argument.

“But we’re not done yet,” said Maureen, frowning. “We still have to—”

“Rain check?” Simon interrupted, gathering his things. He and Maureen were close, but not close enough that he felt comfortable telling her why he was in such a rush. And Eric… well, they didn’t always get along, so that was definitely out of the question. “I’ll make it up to you!” he called over his shoulder as he hurried out before anyone could stop him.

Once he was outside the tiny basement they used for band practice, he rummaged through his bag for his car keys. His fingers trembled with excitement. He really didn’t want to be late.

________________________________

Finally, 20 minutes later, he pulled up his car to the school parking lot. He counted himself lucky to even find a parking spot at all, with how crowded it already was.

Getting out of his car, he anxiously tried to smoothen down the front of his very wrinkly shirt. Hours spent studying in the library followed by two hours of band practice had left him looking less than sharp. He zipped up his hoodie to hide his less-than put together outfit.

It would be fine, though. It’s not like Jace would be looking at him anyway.

He locked the car door, shoved the keys in his bag and headed off to the pitch.

All around him, teenagers were chatting excitedly about the stakes of the game, parents were dropping off their kids and reminding them of their curfews, and children were shrieking with laughter as their siblings chased them around. And then there was Simon, walking alone, surrounded by strangers.

At least he did until he felt arms wrap around his middle and he was pulled into a tight hug.

He didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Clary. He just saw a flash of red and smelled her perfume, and he knew.

He grinned as she released him and turned him to face her. “You going to the game?” she asked cheerily. Then, mock slapping her hand to her forehead, added, “Of course you are, what am I even saying. As if you’d ever miss a chance to—”

“Yes, I’m going,” Simon said quickly, glancing over her shoulder at the girl who was with Clary. He wasn’t really in the closet, but he wasn’t shouting from the rooftops that he liked boys, either.

“Sorry,” Clary amended, and kissed his cheek. “This is Izzy,” she continued, gesturing to the black-haired girl, who offered a smile in greeting.

Simon raised his eyebrows, and looked at Clary. Since when was Clary hanging out with Jace’s sister?

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Izzy’s hand. “You’re a grade above us, right?”

Izzy nodded, and they chatted for a bit about school and their workloads. Simon’s mind was on Jace, as usual.

“Shit, we better go get seats or they’ll be full,” Clary said suddenly, glancing at her phone. “It’s about to start.”

The three of them continued to the pitch, and thankfully got three connected seats. They weren’t as good as Simon would have liked, but they were decent enough. Clary was sat in the middle, with Izzy on one side and Simon on the other. She was chatting happily with Izzy, who was looking back at Clary with a very warm smile.

Simon had zoned out of the conversation and was focusing on the pitch. The game would start any minute. Just as he thought that, a whistle blew, and the two teams trooped out onto the pitch.

Simon spotted Jace immediately. His golden hair stood out against the other boys’, who were mainly dark-haired.

Simon sighed happily to himself. He felt at home now, however pathetic that may seem. For now, it didn’t matter that Jace probably didn’t even know who he was. It didn’t matter that, even if he did, it wouldn’t matter because he would most likely end up dating Clary, or some other cute girl. Everyone always fell for Clary, Simon thought, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

He loved Clary with all his heart, but it was hard being her best friend sometimes, when all the people Simon had crushes on only wanted to be with Clary. He was sure Jace wouldn’t be an exception.

But that didn’t matter now. He could just sit back, in blissful anonymity, and stare at Jace from afar. He could admire the way his legs looked in those tight pants, and how his biceps bulged when he threw the ball, and no one would be the wiser.

And then, Jace’s eyes locked onto his.

The teams were standing on the pitch, waiting for the whistle to blow, indicating the start of the game. His teammates were focused on the game, but Jace was most certainly looking at Simon.

For a moment, Simon thought he might be imagining it. He was, after all, sitting with Jace’s sister. Maybe he was just looking at her for some reason.

But no. He was unmistakably, undeniably looking right at Simon.

Simon gulped. He couldn’t break the eye contact, couldn’t bare to look away from Jace’s hair blowing gently in the wind, and his eyes— his beautiful, enchanting eyes. Even from this distance, Simon could see them in his mind as if Jace was standing right in front of him.

The shrill blow of a whistle yanked him back to present time, and with a pang he realized that Jace had looked away.

He was staring resolutely at the football again, not another glance in Simon’s direction.

This lasted for the entirety of the game. Simon’s gaze never left Jace, but not once did Jace look back at him, which made the entire thing that much stranger.

Had it been an accident? Had he imagined it? Was he making a big deal out of something that Jace hadn’t even thought twice about? The thoughts were reeling in his head and he was starting to feel really anxious. Suddenly Clary grasped his hand and put it in her lap, folding her fingers around his, and squeezing.

He had been picking at his shirt and pulling at a loose thread.

He met her eyes and she smiled reassuringly. He smiled back.

They held hands for the last 30 minutes of the game, and Simon felt immeasurably happy to have her as a best friend. She knew everything about him, from his dreams for the future, down to his anxious habits.

When the game ended, the stands erupted in a multicolored roar. Flags and banners were being waved, people were chanting, and names of the players were being shouted. They’d won the game, and all the students of their school were ecstatic. Simon knew this had been an important game, but he wasn’t sure why. His sports interest started and ended with Jace.

Speaking of which, Simon couldn’t help but smile at the groups of people shouting “Light-wood, Light-wood, Light-wood!” at the top of their lungs from the other side of the stand. Jace truly was an icon to some of these people, especially the younger students.

“Hey, Simon,” Clary said, shaking his arm gently. She seemed to have been trying to get his attention for a while.

He quickly turned to her, cheeks a little red. “Yeah?”

“Izzy and I are going to get some food, wanna come?” she asked.

He glanced down at the field, but he couldn’t see Jace anymore. He was probably buried under that pile of players on the pitch. He looked back at Clary. “Yeah, sure. What’d you have in mind?”

________________________________

The three of them went to Jade Wolf, a local Chinese restaurant. They ordered and sat down in a corner booth, Izzy and Clary excitedly talking about the game while Simon fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. His mind was split between his English exam next week, and Jace.

Speaking of…

“Hey, big bro,” Izzy said suddenly, getting to her feet.

Simon looked up, and found himself staring at Jace from less than a yard away. He blinked several times.

“I hope it’s okay, I texted him and told him to meet us here,” said Izzy, hugging her brother. When they separated, she said, “Congrats on the game, by the way!”

Jace grinned. “Thanks. Did I look as good as I felt?”

Izzy rolled her eyes fondly and sat back down next to Clary, which meant the only seat available was the one next to Simon.

He awkwardly shuffled closer to the wall so Jace could have some space as he sat down. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, only shared by the two of them since Clary had abruptly dragged Izzy off to the bathroom for god knows what.

“Did you—”

“Really good ga—”

They both interrupted themselves at the same time, waiting for the other to continue. When none of them did, Jace smiled tentatively. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Simon said, even though it wasn’t really the _game_ he’d enjoyed.

Jace turned to him more, a twinkle in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?”

“Oh, uh, um…” Simon hesitated. He’d never properly talked to Jace before, so he didn’t know how… open-minded he was. “I’m not really interested in the sport, to be honest. It’s just… a nice thing to watch, I guess.”

“‘Nice thing to watch?’” Jace echoed. He laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

Simon wasn’t sure what to say. He started tugging at his zipper again, but stopped when the ripping sound made Jace flinch. He dropped his hands in his lap instead.

“Anyway,” Jace said, running a hand through his wet hair. He must have showered after the game. He was out of his football gear, too, and was now sporting his trademark letterman jacket over a plain white v-neck. Images of Jace in the shower flashed before his eyes, and his mouth was suddenly very dry. “So if you’re not into sports, then what are you into?”

Simon frowned. Why would he want to know that? Sure, they had to talk about _something_ while Clary and Izzy were gone, but Simon had expected him to… he wasn’t sure _what_ he thought Jace would talk about, actually. Himself, probably.

But no, he was asking about Simon, and his interests.

“Well, uh, I’m in a band,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Oh yeah?” Jace said, excitement shining in his eyes. “What are you called?”

“Rock Solid Panda,” Simon said sheepishly. He cursed Maureen for the embarrassing name.

But Jace didn’t laugh, he just nodded, looking very serious.  “What do you play?”

“Guitar,” Simon said with a nod. And, not sure why, he added, “And I sing, too.”

“Shit, really? I wish I could play, but it’s one of the extremely few things I’m bad at,” Jace said, with a wink. “My voice isn’t much better.”

 _I can teach you,_ Simon thought to himself, but banished the thought from his head immediately. He’d watched enough romcoms to know what a suggestion like that would read like to Jace, and he wasn’t really itching to reveal to Jace just how smitten he really was.

“Practice makes perfect,” is what he said instead. “Not that I’m there yet, obviously.”

Jace smiled again. He was smiling an awful lot, wasn’t he? Did he always do that?

“Maybe you can play something for me sometime.”

The words played over and over in Simon’s head, twisting and turning, over and over. He mumbled something and leaned back in his seat. Without noticing, he’d begun picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his hoodie.

Something was definitely off. Jace had never, ever shown any interest in him. Hell, he’d never shown any indication that he even knew Simon existed. And Simon _knew_ that Jace wasn’t much for small talk, and judging by his small circle of friends, he wasn’t big on making new friends either. He could if he wanted, no doubt, because of his immense popularity, but he must be very picky. So why was he seemingly making such an effort to talk to Simon, of all people?

It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being set up for some cruel joke.

If he didn’t trust Clary with his life, he would have thought that she’d set him up. It was exactly like in the movies. She knew about his enormous crush on Jace, and so she brought him with her and her friend to a restaurant, secretly invited his crush and then waited for his crush to completely humiliate him.

But he trusted Clary, more than anyone. He didn’t know Izzy very well at all but he doubted anyone Clary hung out with would do anything like that.

So what was going on? Why was Jace being so nice, and why was he _smiling_ so much?

“Oh my god, you guys, you won’t believe what Clary just did!”

Clary and Izzy had returned, both looking slightly flushed and very happy.

“What, lil sis?” Jace asked, with a teasing smile that he seemed to reserve for his siblings.

Simon decided not to dwell on Jace’s intentions. The girls were back now and he could comfortably sit back and let them do all the talking for the rest of the night. They’d been at the restaurant for quite a while already, so he could probably excuse himself in an hour or so and say he needed to get home.

It would be okay. It was okay.

Except that, after they’d finished their food, Clary suddenly announced that Izzy and her were having a sleepover at her place.

“Girls only, I assume?” Jace said, winking at his sister who just grinned back at him.

“I’m sure you and Simon will do fine without us,” Izzy teased back.

Simon didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead he got to his feet. “I should be heading home too.”

“Wanna walk together?” Jace said, also getting up.

Izzy and Clary were talking about what movie to watch later, and didn’t pay attention to the boys.

Simon stopped mid-picking up his bag, and turned to stare at Jace. “Sure?” he said hesitantly.

Jace looked pleased. Simon couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

They got their stuff, paid for their dinner and left the restaurant together. Outside, Izzy and Clary hugged them both goodbye, and set off towards Clary’s, their arms interlocked.

Jace and Simon headed off in the opposite direction.

Jace had his hands shoved in the pockets of his letterman jacket, and Simon had his arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t brought a jacket for some reason, and the thin fabric of his hoodie didn’t offer much protection from the cold. He cursed his past self as a particularly cold wind blew towards them, chilling him to the bone. He shuddered.

Jace glanced at him and, seeing him shiver, held out a hand to stop him. “Are you cold?”

“No,” Simon lied, but his chattering teeth gave him away. It _was_ October, after all. Why hadn’t he brought a damn jacket?

But Jace didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, he pulled off his jacket and handed it to Simon wordlessly.

Simon stared at Jace, then the jacket, and then back at Jace.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. Really,” he said, shaking his head and trying to walk off.

He couldn’t see him, but he had a feeling Jace was rolling his eyes at him.

“You’ll catch a cold in that,” he said, nodding his head towards Simon’s thin hoodie. “Come on, just take it. Or do you think you’re strong enough to fight me on this?” He raised his eyebrows, as if daring him to.

Simon stopped, a few feet ahead of Jace. He turned around to look at him. Jace’s face was set with determination, but there was something soft in his face too.

Simon hesitated, and then surrendered. He held out his hand, and Jace handed him the jacket with a grin.

Simon carefully, very carefully stuck his arms into the sleeves and pulled it on.

It was a little big on him, but not much. It smelled faintly of newly mown grass, cinnamon and a rougher scent he couldn’t quite place.

It smelled like Jace.

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to turn his head and smell the collar.

They kept walking, an awkward silence settling over them.

Jace had his hands shoved in his jeans pockets now, and Simon had carefully folded the cuffs of Jace’s jacket so his hands were sticking out. When he thought Jace wasn’t looking, he held up the sleeves to his nose and inhaled. _Jace_.

He glanced sideways at the boy walking next to him. He seemed to be deep in thought. The street lamps illuminated his profile and a very light drizzle made it look like glitter dusted his golden hair.

“So, what kind of music do you play?” Jace asked suddenly.

Simon, who had been busy admiring the way shadows played on Jace’s face, blinked twice. “Sorry, what?”

Jace laughed quietly and repeated his question.

“Oh, um. Mainly indie, I guess,” Simon said, shrugging. “We do a lot of acoustic stuff.”

“And you sing?” Jace asked, looking at his feet as they walked.

“Yeah,” Simon said. Where was he going with this?

Jace looked up at him very suddenly, and with a grin said, “Sing something.”

“Sing something?” Simon squeaked. “No way.”

“Why not?” Jace asked, and he was _pouting_. It was unfairly adorable, and Simon honest to god considered it for a second, before his brain recovered and alarm bells went off. He absolutely couldn’t sing in front of Jace. No way.

“I… I can’t,” he said, feeling a bit desperate. “You’ll make fun of me.”

Jace frowned. “I would never do that.” Then, trying to lighten the mood, he said, “Come on, just one song. Or like, one verse.”

Simon felt cornered. He couldn’t think of any reasons not to, and he _was_ lead singer in a band. It shouldn’t be so daunting to sing in front of people.

Except this wasn’t _people_. This was Jace.

“One verse,” he said, glaring at Jace, who just smiled back at him. He fist pumped in the air, and it was so ridiculous, Simon couldn’t help but smile.

And so, he sang the chorus to WILD, by Troye Sivan.

They were still walking, and they were almost at Simon’s house now. Jace was watching him, completely focused on Simon and his voice floating through the night air.

They had arrived outside Simon’s house when he let the last note die out. He could barely handle looking Jace in the eye.

“You’re really good.”

The words echoed in Simon’s head, bouncing around the walls and magnifying themselves until it felt like someone was screaming it at him.

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing at his neck. “It, uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Like, really good. Do you ever play gigs? I’d love to—”

Simon didn’t know what came over him. He really didn’t.

One second he was staring at Jace, and the soft smile that seemed to illuminate his face. The other, he had lunged himself at Jace and was pressing him against the wall of his apartment building, his hands clenched in Jace’s shirt and their lips pressed together.

It was dry, and a bit off-center, and very rough. Simon’s knuckles were white with how hard he was holding Jace’s shirt, but he didn’t care that his fingers were cramping. His brain was fried, and he couldn’t think, or even breathe. He just kept kissing Jace, pressing him further into the brick wall. He felt a hand on his waist, and for some reason, that jolted him back to himself.

He jumped back, releasing Jace and clamping his hands over his mouth. “Oh my god.” The words were muffled by his hands, so Jace couldn’t hear him.

Jace’s eyes were wide, and for a moment Simon saw himself reflected in those stunning, ethereal eyes. He looked just as terrified as he felt.

Jace didn’t say anything. He was probably in shock.

Simon didn’t wait for Jace to respond. He spun on his heel and ran inside.

________________________________

Simon barely slept that night. He kept tossing and turning in his bed, writhing with mental agony.

One second, he could feel Jace’s lips on his again, and his whole body was thrumming with energy. He could almost taste him, as if Jace was right there with him in his dark bedroom. A split second later, his chest tightened and instead he saw Jace’s face in front of him, his features contorted with rage. He could almost hear him screaming things like, “What’s wrong with you?” and “you fucking creep”.

He had no idea what to do.

Sitting upright, he fumbled after his phone and glasses that lay on the nightstand. Sliding his glasses on, he unlocked his phone and lay back down.

He lay with his face inches away from his phone, ignoring the pain in his eyes at the too-bright screen. He contemplated texting Clary and telling her what happened, but then he remembered that she was with Izzy, and he didn’t want to risk her finding out.

He dropped his phone beside him with a dull _thump_ , and shut his eyes.

He needed to think about something else. He needed…

Jace. He needed Jace.

He hated that his mind immediately went to Jace, but he couldn’t help himself. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to get to him, to kiss him again, to feel the soft fabric of his shirt between his fingers as he pulled him closer.

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic. Jace had looked so shocked, maybe even terrified. He shuddered to think what he would have done if Simon hadn’t bolted. Punched him? Threatened him? Thrown him to the ground and kicked him?

He didn’t want to know, and he definitely didn’t want to spend all night thinking about it.

He needed to focus on the more pressing issue. School tomorrow. What was he going to do?

He felt sick. Maybe he would feel better if he threw up?

Somehow he doubted it.

He groaned and flipped over onto his stomach, burrowing his face into his pillow and screaming until his voice gave out.

____________________

The next morning, Simon awoke with new-found courage.

A night’s sleep had worked wonders, and given him a fresh perspective.

He got up, ate breakfast and went to school.

Sure, he had made a fool of himself. Sure, he might have endangered himself by coming out to (and onto) Jace, one of the most popular kids in school, who could probably make his life a living hell if he wanted to.

But why would he want to?

Yesterday, Jace had said that he would never make fun of him. Surely that extended to never physically harming him?

He may have some rougher edges than most people, but he didn’t seem cruel. Okay, he had gotten in trouble over the years for punching a few people, but as far as Simon knew, it had always been more or less deserved. He didn’t think Jace would feel the need to put him in his place with violence. It was already so clear that Simon was the inferior one, and as long as he kept to himself, Jace wouldn’t need to, for a lack of a better word, discipline him.

In the light of day, it seemed implausible that Jace would ever approach Simon again. It would put an abrupt end to the glory days of Simon being able to unabashedly admire Jace at football games and such, because Jace would most likely be keeping an eye out for Simon to make sure he backed off, but maybe that was for the best. Nothing was going to happen between them, anyway, so why keep hanging around?

In a way, this was the best thing that could have happened.

Jace would avoid him and never speak to him again, which would give Simon space to let his crush fade and eventually disappear. All he needed to do was to keep as far away from Jace as he could, and he would be fine.

________________________________

He got to school an hour and a half before his first class. He was going to get his text books and go sit down somewhere to do his homework. Diving into work was a good strategy to get over a crush, or so his favorite movies had always told him.

Walking through the hallways, his backpack hanging off his shoulder and gently slamming into his side every other step, he felt an increasing spring to his step. It would all be fine.

He hummed the tune to WILD as he walked, running his fingertips along the lockers and twisting the locks in sync with the music.

The hallways were usually deserted this early in the morning and today was no exception.

But when he turned the corner to the hallway where he had his locker, his heart almost stopped in his chest.

Jace.

He was leaning against the locker next to Simon’s, in the otherwise empty hallway. He seemed to be looking at something in the other direction.

Simon froze. What was he going to do? His whole plan had relied on Jace not seeking him out.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

His knuckles whitening from how tightly he was gripping his backpack strap, he slowly approached.

Jace didn’t look up until he was right in front of him.

Both waited for the other to speak, or in Simon’s case, throw a punch. But it didn’t come, nor did the words.

Simon decided to brace himself. If he started talking, it’d be over quicker. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry—”

“Here.”

Jace suddenly looked very… gentle. His face was still schooled into his usual resting bitch face, but there was a new sense of tenderness in his eyes.

Simon’s heart lodged in his throat as he stared down at Jace’s outstretched hand, and what he was holding out to him.

It was a rose.

A single, red rose.

He stared. And stared, and stared.

He didn’t know how to react.

Jace Lightwood was giving him a rose. A _red_ rose, for that matter. Did he know what that symbolised? Even if he didn’t, it was still an awfully intimate thing to do.

Simon took half a step backwards, still expecting to get punched. “What are you doing?”

Jace looked between him and the rose, his forehead crinkling. He didn’t say anything. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked.

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. Was Jace that stupid? Or was he, Simon, the stupid one?

His head was spinning.

“I don’t understand,” Simon said, looking around him. “Are you trying to mess with me? Is this a set-up, and your friends are hiding somewhere?”

Jace looked almost hurt. “I’m not stupid, of course not. Why would I do that?”

Simon almost rolled his eyes. “Because— because—” he stuttered. “You know why!”

Jace opened his mouth to speak, but all the pent up anxiety was starting to boil over within Simon and he just couldn’t help himself any more.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I kissed you, I’m sorry I’ve been— I’ve been acting weird or whatever. I’m sorry, okay? Just— leave me alone and forget about it, please?” he pleaded, still holding his backpack strap in a painfully tight grip.

“I’m not messing with you!” Jace said, a tad impatient now. “I’m trying to… well I’m trying to ask you out.”

Silence fell over them once more.

“Ask me out?” Simon repeated, after a beat. He looked around again. “Okay, joke’s over. Where are your friends?”

Jace groaned, and pushed off the locker.

Simon took another half a step backwards.

“You ran off so quickly yesterday, I didn’t have time to tell you,” he said. He took a step towards Simon, who took an equally big step backwards.

Jace frowned. “You still don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well how could I? You didn’t even know I existed before yesterday,” Simon snapped, and it came out harsher than he intended.

Jace laughed at that.

He _laughed_.

It made Simon even angrier. “Look, this might just be some joke to you, but it’s serious to me! I know you don’t feel the same but you don’t have to _mock_ me!”

Jace took another step towards him, and when Simon tried to back away, he found himself pressed into the lockers, with nowhere to go. His eyes widened in fear.

Jace held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” He kept his hands like that, until finally, Simon nodded.

“Okay,” he said tentatively. “Okay, you’re not going to hurt me. So what are you doing then?”

“I already told you,” Jace said, and there was a hint of that tenderness back in his voice. “I’m trying to ask you out. Honestly.”

Simon was quiet for a moment.

Maybe… maybe he was actually telling the truth. Maybe he _was_ trying to ask him out.

Was it possible that he had just misread the whole thing?

When he thought about it… Jace hadn’t said anything after Simon had kissed him. He hadn’t said _anything_ , or _done_ anything, so Simon’s assumption that he hated it was really quite baseless.

He had also not punched him, which Simon is sure a lot, if not all, other guys at their school would have done. So maybe, there was a chance…

“Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to leave me hanging?” Jace asked, and his voice was a mixture of that trademark Lightwood cockiness, and that new tenderness.

Simon finally met his eye, and for the first time in his life, he thought his feelings might actually be reciprocated.

Slowly, he took the rose from Jace’s hand. Its petals were soft and delicate, and when he ran his thumb over them, it tickled slightly. He smiled down at it. How did Jace know he loved roses?

“Clary told me you liked them,” Jace said, as if he could read Simon’s mind.

Simon looked up at him, mouth open. “You’ve talked to Clary? About me?”

Jace grinned slightly. “I asked her for advice to, uh, ask you out. She said you like roses.”

Simon looked down at the rose again, and this time he couldn’t stop himself from smiling even if he wanted to.

“You still haven’t answered, you know,” Jace said, and his fingertips ran briefly over the flower petals as well.

Simon didn’t answer him. Instead he wrapped his arms around Jace’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Jace wasted no time in kissing him back, resting one hand at the back of his neck while the other settled on his hip, urging him closer.

This kiss was a million times better than their first, and not only because now Jace was actually kissing him back. It was soft and intense at the same time, and there was a very slight hint of stubble on Jace’s chin that scratched deliciously against Simon’s skin.

He couldn’t resist running his hand through Jace’s soft, golden hair, and experimentally tugged at the hairs at the back of his neck.

The effect was astounding. A soft, choked moan escaped Jace, and Simon stifled a moan of his own against Jace’s lips.

It felt like an entire garden of roses was blossoming in his chest. With each press of Jace’s lips against his, another dozen flower buds burst within him.

All too soon, Jace was pulling back. Simon tried to haul him back for another kiss, but Jace laughed softly and pecked him on the lips before disentangling himself slightly.

“I’m going out on a limb and taking that as a yes, then,” he said.

Simon grinned nervously. “Yeah.”

Jace kissed him again, with a hand on the small of his back that was pressing them even closer. Simon could feel Jace’s heart beating against his, and he thought he would faint with happiness.

How did this even happen? He had been miserable just a few hours ago, and now he was making out with Jace Lightwood against a locker. More amazingly, Jace Lightwood was making out with _him_.

“I’ve been watching you for months,” Jace suddenly confessed, their mouths mere inches apart. “I’ve seen you in the stands at our games, and you always look so happy whenever I score, and it always makes your nose crinkle like—” He gently, gentler than Simon thought Jace was capable of being, squished Simon’s nose so it crinkled slightly. Simon smiled nervously, and Jace returned it. “God, I just wanted to kiss you right then and there. Every football practice, every game, every time I’ve seen you in the cafeteria.” He sounded breathless. “And every time you missed a practice, I got this feeling, like what was even the point if you weren’t there to watch me? It felt pointless, and I know it’s weird because we haven’t really talked that much—”

“Or ever,” Simon filled in, smiling dopily, his eyes dropping to Jace’s mouth.

“Or ever,” Jace agreed, following Simon’s line of sight and smiling. “But I wanted to, I was just scared that… well. I guess you would know.”

“Because I’m so familiar with fear?” Simon said helpfully.

“Something along those lines, yeah,” Jace smiled. Then, he turned serious again, and continued, “But then, last night, when you were talking about your band, and you looked so... passionate, and I just knew… I wasn’t imagining it, it wasn’t just a fantasy. It took all my willpower not to kiss you right then and there.”

“Too bad you didn’t,” Simon said, thinking about how it would have saved him a night of pain.

“Well, I was going to,” Jace said earnestly. “But then you kissed me first, and ran off. I tried to follow you inside but the doors locked behind you.”

Simon felt himself smiling. “You were?”

He felt like he had fallen into one of those sappy, romcoms where the awkward girl always gets the hot guy, no matter how unlikely and unrealistic it was.

Jace playfully prodded him in the ribs. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t do it sooner. I was just…”

“Scared,” Simon supplied. “It’s okay. I was scared too.”

Jace nodded, and Simon noticed how his eyes kept going to his lips. He said, “I don’t object to more kissing, just so you know.”

Jace looked up, and honest to god blushed at having been caught staring. Simon didn’t get to enjoy it for long though, because before he knew it, Jace had pinned him to the locker behind him, steadying him with a firm hand on the side of his face, and the other still on his waist.

Simon kissed him back with equal excitement.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

If this wasn’t a dream, he wanted to know who to thank for blessing him with this reality.


End file.
